Chapter 3

"A guest?" I didn't turn around.

Footsteps sounded again from the entryway.

Vivian chuckled and waved someone in from outside. "Henry Pierce, come here."

Larry, the driver, walked in holding the hand of a three-year-old boy, awkwardly avoiding my gaze.

"Daddy!" Henry broke free from Larry's hand and stumbled into the living room, making a beeline for the armchair.

Edward didn't flinch. He set his glass down, opened his arms naturally, and caught Henry with steady hands.

I turned around, my gaze drifting over the armrest and landing on Henry's face. Sharp-browed and thin-lipped, he bore the exact same features as Edward.

Blood ties were merciless. No words were needed to prove the connection. So this was the so-called "guest" he brought here for the sake of the bigger picture.

With his own child in tow, he brazenly walked right into the territory he'd set aside for me.

Vivian walked over to the coffee table and opened her handbag. She tossed a thick leather folder onto the black marble surface.

She pulled out a few sheets of paper, and her finger tapped the bottom of the document. "Ms. Nash, don't stand so far away. Come take a closer look."

With legs that felt like lead, I made my way back to the sofa.

The paternity test report lay open on the coffee table.

Edward's late nights over the past six months, the faint lingering scent of baby powder on his shirt collar, and those so-called family trust adjustments all finally clicked into place at this moment.

I leaned forward and picked up the report. My hand didn't tremble.

My gaze went straight to the last page. The genetic markers were clearly listed, showing a 99.99% DNA match.

The red seal at the bottom, confirming their blood relation, was almost blinding in its finality. It wiped away the very essence of our four-year marriage.

I gripped the thin pages and turned to look at Edward.

Henry lay against his chest, his little hands tugging at Edward's suit, crumpling the fabric without a care.

Edward, who used to change his clothes at the slightest hint of dust, now had his head lowered, soothing Henry with a steady hand on his back.

He never once looked at me. No excuses, no attempts to cover it up, not even the effort to spin a lie. He simply could not be bothered. His silence was the purest form of arrogance.

Vivian watched my reaction with a satisfied smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Her gaze swept past me, unapologetically zeroing in on the second floor. "Edward, Henry's about to start kindergarten. He needs his own space."

She pointed with her diamond-ringed finger toward the end of the hallway upstairs. "The south-facing room gets the best light and is the biggest.

"Have someone clear out everything tomorrow, put in new floors, and turn it into Henry's bedroom."

That was my master bedroom, the place where I'd slept for four years, where all my belongings were.

I locked my eyes on Edward's face, waiting. I hoped he'd say no to her demand.

Edward finally looked up. His gaze flicked across my face, empty of all emotion and filled only with sheer annoyance. "Charlotte, there's one more thing."

He steadied Henry's restless hands, his voice calm and absolute, leaving no room for argument. "The master bedroom is better for Henry. Move to the guest room tonight."

I stared at Edward's face, that look of entitlement making my throat tighten. The words stuck in my throat.

I didn't argue. I turned and walked toward the stairs, stepping onto the solid wood treads.

At the end of the second-floor hallway was my study. It was the only sanctuary in the villa that was truly mine. From the curtains to the carpet, every detail was chosen and arranged by me.

I pressed my fingertips together tightly.

From the crack in the slightly open door came the sound of a power drill.

I pushed the door open.